


From The Doorway They Watched

by red0aktree



Series: Clarphamy Collection [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Surgery, can be read as platonic i guess, maybe not, nongraphic depiction of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red0aktree/pseuds/red0aktree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is injured on a scouting trip. Abby can heal her, but it won't be painless. Bellamy and Murphy are left to watch, and worry, as Clarke undergoes surgery. </p><p>Featuring: a spear to the leg, Murphy's (hidden) empathetic nature, and Bellamy being protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Doorway They Watched

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely apologize for the overly pretentious title. I hate titles. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks to my lovely beta: [Gabriel!](http://racetrackthehiggins.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO, I have this as a part of my Clarphamy series. You can read it as a follow up to the previous story in the series, or a standalone. Either works. :D

Bellamy and Murphy were arguing when Clarke was brought into camp. They didn’t hear her whimpers of pain as she passed through the gates, suspended between Monroe and Sinclair’s shoulders, her legs dragging in the dirt as they hauled her back to safety. There had been an ambush, and they were lucky only Clarke had been hit.

“Murphy, stop trying to cut the fence,” Bellamy huffed, shoving Murphy away from the fence post they were inspecting. Murphy shoved back.

“I’m not _trying_ to cut it, I slipped.”

“Well now I have to fix it,” Bellamy grumbled, swiping the bolt cutters from Murphy’s hands. “Give me those.”

Raven had assigned them a section of fence at the far end of camp. They were told to clip away any plant overgrowth, and check each length for any imperfections. It had started pleasantly; Murphy chatted about the weather and Bellamy kicked rocks with his boots and giggled when they tripped Murphy on accident. After a while, though, boredom set in with Bellamy complaining about the heat, and Murphy let out deep sighs every couple of minutes.

“God,” Murphy whined. “How much longer do we have to do this for?”

“We have about fifty feet left. That’s it.”

“Fifty feet,” Murphy repeated, dragging out the last word in a moan. Bellamy rolled his eyes, and set to work on rewiring the fence where Murphy had nipped the post.

“Shut up, Murphy.”

“It’s so boring out here, Bell.”

“Then find something to entertain yourself, Christ almighty…”

“We could--”

“Do not suggest anything that requires taking our clothes off.”

“But what if we just--”

“I swear, Murphy, one more word and these bolt cutters go straight up your asshole.”

“In a sexy way?”

“No,” Bellamy scoffed. “Definitely not in a sexy way.”

The pair were too busy arguing to notice the frantic approach of Miller. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting slightly. “Bellamy,” he called. “Murphy. Something happened.”

Murphy turned quickly, frowning at Miller. Bellamy straightened up from where he was crouched, also watching the other boy.

“What?” Murphy snapped, not willing to wait for Miller to catch his breath.

“Clarke’s party got ambushed. She took a spear to the leg.”

“Where is she now?” Bellamy asked, already shouldering his bag over his shoulder. Murphy took the bolt cutters from his without question, sliding them in his own pack.

“The infirmary with Abby.”

“Okay,” Bellamy said, his brows creased in concern. He shot a quick look to Murphy, who nodded once, and then turned toward the infirmary. He began a steady run toward camp, Murphy at his heels.

Miller followed as well, but farther behind, letting the pair ahead of him have their privacy. Everyone in camp had their suspicions about the group. Many had bets on Clarke and Bellamy being an item, others on Clarke and Murphy, and there were even a few dead set in the belief that Murphy and Bellamy had been together since they landed, but few believed that maybe it was all of that, and none of that, all at once. Nathan was one of the who figured it didn’t really matter, seeing as it was apparent no matter what the label was, the trio cared deeply for each other, and should be with one another in a time like this.

“Spear to the leg,” Murphy said, catching up to Bellamy’s side. “That’s not that bad is it?”

“Could be, depends on where it hit.” Bellamy sounded worried. Murphy swallowed thickly, and picked up his pace.

At the camp, Bellamy and Murphy didn’t hesitate to duck inside the ark, panting loudly and looking frantic. They were in the infirmary within seconds, immediately attuned to Clarke’s sounds of distress.

“What happened?” Bellamy demanded the moment he set foot in the room. Clarke was stretched out on a table, hands gripping tight at the sheets. Abby was bent over her thigh, where the tip of the spear was still imbedded in her flesh. The sight of her blood made Murphy’s head pound.

Abby raised her head at Bellamy’s voice, and Jackson took a step toward them. His expression was stormy, and his jaw set. Clarke, however, seemed pleased to see them, and let out a sigh of relief.

“You can’t be here,” Jackson warned. “You’ll distract Abby. Wait outside.”

Bellamy hesitated. Perhaps Jackson was right. Murphy, however, didn’t seem to acknowledge Jackson’s words at all. He pushed passed the other man, and grabbed Clarke’s hand in his own. Bellamy stepped forward as well, following Murphy’s lead.

“No, no, no,” Abby said sternly. “Jackson, get them out now.”

“Mom,” Clarke muttered weakly. Bellamy tried to stroke her hair, but was interrupted by Jackson’s grip on his arm. Jackson attempted to pull him away, but Bellamy jerked out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me,” Bellamy barked. “We’re staying.”

“Then stand over there,” Abby snapped, and Murphy flinched at her raised voice. “I will not have you jeopardizing the wellbeing of my daughter. Stay near the door, and don’t distract me.”

After another moment’s hesitation, Bellamy began to step away. He grabbed Murphy’s hand as he did so, gently pulling him away from Clarke. Murphy was reluctant to let go of Clarke, but obeyed. Bellamy continued to hold Murphy’s hand as they took their place near the door, as instructed, and watched Abby work.

Clarke tried to keep her eyes on the boys, but was distracted by the searing pain in her leg. She let out a quiet whimper, which quickly escalated to a scream as Abby gripped the spear. Murphy whimpered as well, his hands shaking.

Bellamy was stoic as he watched Clarke thrash in pain. He kept his face blank, though inside he felt sick at the sight of the girl he loved withstanding so much agony. Not to mention, it hurt to see Murphy’s reactions.

Bellamy knew Murphy was sensitive to the pain of others. He’d noticed it by the way Murphy avoided the infirmary at all costs, how he’d kept as far away as possible when Monty had cut himself on Raven’s workbench last week. Bellamy didn’t know if he had always been this way, or if it was leftover trauma from his stay with the grounders. Either way, it was certainly apparent now as Murphy trembled, his face pale as he watched. He was unable to tear his eyes away from Clarke, transfixed in equal parts horror and anguish. Murphy loved Clarke as well, perhaps just as much as Bellamy did, and Bellamy was well aware of this.

“Murphy,” Bellamy hissed, pulling Murphy closer. “ _Murphy_. Relax. Clarke is going to be okay.”

Murphy was hesitant for a moment in Bellamy’s arms. He and Bellamy touched when they needed to, and sometimes when they didn’t, but it was rarely like this. Clarke was the one with the gentle hands and warm hugs, she was the one to comfort the two of them when they needed it. They never had to reassure each other, because Clarke was always there to do it for them.

“Bell,” Murphy choked. Clarke screamed again, and Murphy shuddered. He didn’t resist Bellamy’s hold anymore, slumping backwards against Bellamy’s chest.

“It’s okay, she’ll be okay,” Bellamy comforted, arms around Murphy’s waist. He buried his face in the back of Murphy’s neck, unable to watch Clarke any longer. “Come on, let’s go outside. We can wait out there.”

“No,” Murphy said, he voice nearing a sob. “No, I have to stay.”

“Murphy, _please_ ,” Bellamy said. He wasn’t begging. Bellamy Blake didn’t beg. The stress in his voice was from fear and sympathy, not desperation.

Murphy didn’t respond, only clutched at Bellamy’s forearms which were secured around his hips. Bellamy slid his arms up higher, wrapping them around Murphy’s chest. He clutched Murphy tight, listening to Clarke’s breathy whimpers and sharp screams. Murphy felt tears prick at his eyes, his knees weak from the sight of Clarke’s blood.

Bellamy supported him, holding Murphy upright and hiding his face in Murphy’s sweaty hair. Murphy’s fingers left bruises in Bellamy’s forearm, his breath ragged with repressed sobs. Together the waited, listening to Abby’s frantic demands, and hoping it would end soon.

Thankfully, Abby was an efficient healer. Clarke’s surgery was over soon enough, though it felt like ages to the boys watching. Clarke was left panting and exhausted, while Abby wrapped her wound tightly, and smoothed a blanket over her legs.

“It’s okay,” Abby said softly. “Boys.”

Murphy didn’t need to be told twice. He broke free of Bellamy’s grasp, stumbling toward the bed and dropping to his knees. Bellamy followed slowly, watching Clarke reach forward to touch Murphy’s face.

“God, Murphy, you’re handling this worse than I am,” Clarke’s voice was weak, but there was humor haunting it.

Murphy let out a broken laugh, resting his forehead on Clarke’s uninjured hip, fingers intertwined with hers. Clarke trailed her free hand shakily through Murphy’s hair, making a soft noise of compassion.

“I think he’s the one who should be comforting you,” Bellamy said, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a hand on Clarke’s good leg. Abby stood not far off, cleaning up the medical equipment and watching silently. The trio took no notice of her.

“Hmm,” Clarke hummed, eyes drooping closed. “Maybe. Mostly it’s just good to see he has emotions other than hatred.”

“Ha, ha,” Murphy huffed, nuzzling closer to Clarke’s hip. Clarke stroked his hair once more, before closing her eyes completely. She was asleep not long after, Murphy and Bellamy at her side.

They stayed there until she awoke, hours later. They stayed there after that as well, and long after Clarke was healed and able to walk. Bellamy and Murphy didn’t make it a habit of leaving Clarke’s side. Clarke didn’t mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr!](http://red-0ak-tree.tumblr.com/)


End file.
